


The Hunt

by Fantasies



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-02 18:44:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19447357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasies/pseuds/Fantasies
Summary: A life altering change sometimes brings out the worst in people. And sometimes it brings out the best.





	The Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: mentions of blood and bodies
> 
> This story was won by [AToffandhisBobby](atoffandhisbobby.tumblr.com) in the Rupert Graves Birthday Auction 2019. I, [Trrriple-rrr](trrriple-rrr.tumblr.com) on tumblr, offered a 3333 word story that somehow turned into something a bit longer. The winner of the story asked for a Season 3 Greg Lestrade!Werewolf scenario and Reader finding out about Greg's secret. This is what I came up with... 
> 
> Hope you like it!!

You will never get used to this. The weird feeling as if, just for a few seconds, your world is turned upside down and you feel incredibly queasy. It’s the feeling that you get every time your phone is ringing in the middle of the night, waking you up in seconds, with the growing knowledge that something horrible has happened. _Again_.

It has happened more and more lately. You know it comes with the job – the late night calls, the horrible news and sights – but you didn’t expect it to feel quite like this.

You sit up, swing your legs out of bed. Adrenaline is already pumping through your veins, making you feel instantly awake and a little bit lightheaded.

You answer the phone and start to get dressed immediately.

It has happened again. New bodies have been found. In the very early morning hours. Just dead for a few hours at most. The scene would be horrible, as bad - if not worse, than the other ones. You could hear the tremble in the voice of the operator calling you. They all feared the next call, the next murder.

You brush your teeth hastily and splash some water into your face. That’ll have to do. The sun is slowly starting to rise, tinting the sky in a beautiful blueish-grey. You almost wish it was still the middle of the night, the sights of these murder scenes just do not seem to fit to an early summer morning.

When you arrive at the scene you can see the blue lights of the police cars flashing before you can see any person. The sight of the ambulance makes your stomach clench. They will leave soon. There is just nothing they can do here.

They are waiting for you already. Holding up the tape securing the scene. You duck and nod to the young DC. He’s looking pale but he’s trying his best to keep it together. You push your shoulders back and swallow hard. If this young guy can do this – you can too.

“He’s here already.” The DC nods over to where the bodies are lying, not yet covered by the gleaming white sheets.

 _He._ Detective Inspector Lestrade.

“Thank you.” You give a terse nod and smile (that probably looks more like a grimace) to the young DC before walking to the figure kneeling next to one of the bodies.

“Lestrade.” You call out, focusing on him rather than the sight before you. It’s easier for the moment.

The man before you gets up in one smooth motion. You haven’t worked with him before but you knew they’d call him to work the case soon. You have heard the rumours about him, of course. Everyone in Scotland Yard has.

DI Lestrade was known for taking the most difficult and grisly murders. And he was known for solving them. He was working harder than ever and he was successful. Which came as quite a surprise to some people since they expected Lestrade to fail, now that his friend and “Consulting Detective” Sherlock Holmes was dead. But Lestrade did not fail. He threw himself into his work, not taking any time off till the DCI forced him to.

But after his return from his holiday things just seemed to get worse. Lestrade came back looking tense, almost haunted. He wore his hair shaved close to his head now. It suited him. A lot. But it also made him look…harder. You know people are saying that his grieving for Holmes was slowly driving Lestrade round the bend but you aren’t one of them.

The man standing before you is hurting. You can see it in his eyes. But he is also determined and he is really pissed off about what had happened here. It still touched him. And you knew that he’d not give up till he’s found the ones responsible for this: the pain, the blood, the grief someone was suffering because of this.

“Two people. Again. Male and female.” Lestrade says instead of a greeting. He also doesn’t hold out his hand. He’s wearing gloves and the golden early morning sunshine gives his eyes a yellowish gleam.

You swallow hard and let your gaze wander over the scene. You can think about Lestrade later. Now you’ve got work to do…

*

“You should get some sleep.” His rough voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You cross your arms in front of your chest before you slowly turn around. It has been almost 24 hours since the newest murder. The light of the moon shining through your office window was almost enough to light up the room. The full moon was close. Your eyes had been hurting so you’d just turned off the lamp on your desk for a while, watching the dark river through your window instead. Your thoughts were flowing slower than its black waters right now.

“I can’t sleep.” You say quietly. It seems very intimate to admit that to him. The silver moonlight paints shadows across his face and the pictures taped to your walls. The blood on them looks as black the Thames’ waters.

He just nods and scratches his face. The rasping sound that’s making tells you he needs a shave. You are smart enough not to tell him to get some sleep himself. His gaze is wandering restlessly over to the windows. You just watch him leaning against your doorframe, his muscles bulging under his shirt as he copies your stance and crosses his arms as well.

“Are you hungry?” The sound in his voice is gruff but you know that he does not want to be alone right now. You feel yourself nodding before you can figure out when you had your last meal. You don’t want to be alone right now either.

“Come on then.” He says and walks away and you follow him quickly.

He takes long strides walking down the corridors. You almost stumble into him when he stops in front of his office and holds the door open for you. You expected to get some food in the cafeteria.

His office almost looks like yours. The same pictures on the walls, the same desk, the same lamp. He turns on the light. He had closed the heavy drapes in front of the windows. It makes his room look like a cave.

“Here. I got some sandwiches. I hope you eat meat?” He says and lets himself fall into his chair. You just nod and try not to look at the pictures behind you.

“Thanks.” You say when he gives you one half of his sandwich that he takes out of a Tupperware container in his drawer. “This is really good.” You smile and take a large bite of his cold steak sandwich.

“Thanks. I did not make it.” He says with a grin. “But I guess that’s not surprising.” He says and takes a large bite himself, wolfing down his sandwich in three bites.

“Hm. Maybe.” You just grin back and wonder when the last time he had eaten was.

“A friend of mine made it. She…is very concerned about me. Wants to make sure I eat…right. And keep healthy. She’s a doctor.” He shrugs and grins again. You like seeing it. You can tell that he’s thankful for his friend.

“Then tell her that this is great.” You smile and finish your sandwich.

“You can tell her yourself. You’ll see her tomorrow. She’s the forensic doctor.” He says and his eyes get that yellowish gleam again as he watches you.

“Oh.” You say and just hold his gaze. You won’t give him the satisfaction of appearing shocked. “I will tell her that then.” Tomorrow. Today. You’d get the forensic report and the obvious result that these new murders were the work of the people you were looking for four month already.

“Eight dead.” Lestrade seems to read your mind and you nod. “Yes. But they are not acting any quicker. About every four weeks there is a new murder. Makes me think they are acting after some personal calendar.”

He just looks at you and nods slowly. It takes a while till he speaks again and when he does he talks about the places the bodies have been found. You just know that he has figured something out…and that he’s keeping it from you…

*

The forensic report tells you exactly what you expected. Ripped limbs, bite marks, cuts and scrapes…methodical killings. The victims suffered a lot.

Your stomach turns and you leave the morgue to get some fresh air. You know Lestrade is throwing you a look but he doesn’t follow you. He stays behind with the pathologist who had greeted your colleague with a quick smile and a lot of concerned looks. She really is worried about him.

You lean against the cool façade of the building and tilt your head up into the warm sunshine. You wonder what is keeping him so long.

When Lestrade finally leaves the building too he doesn’t offer an explanation. Probably thinks he did you a favour – giving you some time to get your stomach and emotions under control again.

“Let’s get some coffee.” He says, sounding almost friendly this time. There is a new Tupperware container in his hand.

“Yeah. Let’s.” You murmur and walk beside him. He seemed to know where he was going, tilting his head upwards, slowly moving it from side to side before choosing the direction. Soon you are standing in front of a small café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee making your mouth water immediately.

He just grins when he looks at you and goes inside to order your coffee. You sit down at one of the small tables.

You push your shirt sleeves up and watch him carry out two large mugs of coffee. You can see people around you turn to watch him when he walks past and you definitely understand why.

His short grey hair shines silver in the sunshine. His skin is tanned and his dark eyes seem larger without the hair falling into his face. The stubble on his cheeks only adds to his attractiveness. His shirt is a tight fit and stretches over his arms when he pushes your coffee into your hands.

You are both quiet for a while, following your own thoughts.

“We need to catch them.” You suddenly burst out. He doesn’t seem surprised. He just nods. “We will.” He says with a confidence that you are not feeling. But the tone in his voice and the way he clenches his jaw and fingers shows you just how determined he is.

“We don’t know anything about them though…” You sigh and watch his fingers play with the hem of his sleeve.

“We know more than they think.” He says with a sudden grin. It’s very distracting to see his face light up like this. But it’s not so distracting that you don’t see a part of a large scar on his forearm as his sleeve is pushed back from his wrist a little bit.

You immediately open your mouth to ask what happened when you catch his eye. There is a warning in his gaze.

 _“Don’t.”_ His voice sounds like a low growl and you don’t manage to ask the question. Instead you focus on your coffee again.

“These will be the last victims.” He says suddenly, his voice sounding normal again. His leg is twitching restlessly under the table…

*

The next day you don’t see Lestrade at all. His DS tells you that he is away, working on a lead. She is meeting your gaze but something doesn’t feel right to you. But Donovan isn’t saying anything else and sits down to work on a file that you saw lying on Lestrade’s desk before.

You also don’t see him the day after that but only get the same answer when you ask about him. You were supposed to work the case together now after all. And he just disappeared.

So you work through the night, letting the light of the full moon streaming through your office window, hoping its silver shadows would give you a new hint, something you have not notice before…

*

“Sir! You’re back!” Donovan’s voice echoes down the hall. She sounds half relieved and half worried. You jump up immediately but you only see Lestrade’s back as he walks towards his office. You just want to talk to him but Sally Donovan steps forward before you can do it. Her hand hovers over Lestrade’s hunched shoulder protectively (but not daring to touch him) as she quickly stirs him into his office and closes the door firmly behind the two of them.

You curse and go back to work hoping to get a chance to talk to him later. You have a lot of questions…

*

When you finally see him again you suddenly understand DS Donovan’s look the other day. Lestrade looks tired and a bit grey. He is slowly nursing a coffee. There are many things you want to ask and say to him but what comes out is a harsh “Where were you?”

He lifts his gaze to look at you. His face lights up a little bit again and you feel your heart beats faster. “Working on another case…” He says as if he rehearsed it.

“You look like you ate something wrong.” You reply and wish you could just stop saying the first thing that comes to your mind.

“Ha! No. I didn’t. I can safely say….I did not do that.” He says and sounds almost proud. “I would have told you. But it all happened quite quickly. Now I’m back. I’ll tell you where I stand with our case.”

You sigh. You wish you could be angry but you hadn’t found out anything new. You sit down across from him at his desk and he opens his files.

“How did you…?” You gasp, reading the notes upside down. There are new leads and results, some names crossed off and some circled twice. You reach out to grab the file. In your eagerness your hand brushes against his. You feel his soft skin against yours, a jolt runs up your arm and you meet his startled gaze.

He hisses and pulls away his hand quickly, rubbing his knuckles.

“Sorry.” You stutter and pull your hand back into your lap. Your skin is still prickling were it touched his.

“Don’t worry.” He says quickly and turns the file around so you can see. Your eyes scan the page, the words luckily chasing away the weird moment from before out of your mind…

*

One week passes, then two and three. You’re getting closer to figuring this case out. You can feel it. You can also see it in Lestrade. He is looking better again. Healthier. Full of energy and strength. His hair is freshly shaved to its new short length, he’s like a bloodhound or a bulldog chasing these murderers. You know he could probably solve this case alone but after his disappearing act he makes sure to work together with you.

You spend more time with him than at home. And you don’t mind at all. He shares his sandwiches with you. Always finds the best coffee places. He grows a bit more careless and doesn’t hiss when your fingers happen to touch or covers the hint of his scar on his forearm anymore when you notice it again.

You like it most when he sits next to you while you are working and you can breathe in his scent. It does something to you, stirs a almost primal longing deep inside of you. You think about him when you are with him at work, and you definitely think about him when you are alone at home, lying awake in your bed, unable to get some sleep…

_“Fuck!”_

You will never get used to this! Even though you are awake this time. The sound of your phone ringing in the middle of the night makes your stomach flip again.

“Yes?”

“I need help! I need you!” Your heart starts to race when you hear that voice. It’s _his_ voice. Lestrade.

You shout his name when the line goes dead, your fingers already flying over the phone to find out from where he was calling. You throw on the next best clothes and head out. The lights and sound of the siren is grating on your nerves.

It has been four weeks since the last murders! _Lestrade!_ His name is the only clear thought you can grasp. You want to scream but you have to stay calm to be able to help him.

An address pops up on your phone and you pull the steering wheel of your car around immediately.

“He’ll be fine! He’ll be fine!” He had to be fine!

The city lights are disappearing around you but you don’t even notice it. You have to help him!

As soon as you reach the address you jump out of your car. You can feel your heart beat in your throat but your hands are steady as you reach for your weapon. It is quiet. And dark. The only light is coming from the full moon bathing the old building in front of you in its silvery light.

“Thank God for that.” You murmur and hope that back-up was close behind you. You should wait but there was no time.

You want to shout his name but just manage not to do that. You push open the door. Stairs are leading down. It is cold inside the thick walls of what you think is an old bunker. You switch on your flashlight, taking one step at a time.

_Please, be alright._

There are scuffling noises from your left and you quickly walk over there. You feel like weeping when you see Lestrade, he’s hurt, bleeding from cuts and scrapes. But he’s sitting up. Leaning against the opposite wall.

In front of him are lying two people. They are bound and unconscious. You can worry about them later.

“Lestrade! Thank God!” You stumble into the room and over to him. You smile and reach out to touch his face. But then he lifts his gaze, his eyes are burning bright yellow. He hugs his body, presses himself against the wall even more. He hisses and throws his head back.

You gasp. His body! You see the large scar on his arm for the first time. Its raised skin is flaming red, hair’s growing around it quickly.

“Greg!” You whisper, unable to move.

He manages to look at you again. His eyes gleaming and his voice a low growl. He kicks his phone over to you.

“Call Mycroft!”

*

“Here. You should drink this. It’ll help.” The beautiful woman across from you smiles and pushes a cup of tea closer to you.

You don’t know what happened really. It all went down so quickly. Suddenly there had been helicopters and people in suits. Taking away the bound people, writhing in pain, growling, hair spurting out all over their bodies.

But you couldn’t care less about them.

The people in suits also took away _him_.

“Lestr…Greg? Where is he?” You manage to ask before you sip the tea. It’s scalding hot but it does make you feel a bit better.

“He’s here. Don’t worry about him. You’ll be able to see him in the morning.” The woman smiles and pushes some biscuits over to you as well.

“The morning? Why?” You suddenly feel very calm but your thoughts were running slow like syrup.

“That’s not my story to tell.” The woman smiles again and easily catches you when you start to fall off the chair from whatever it was she just drugged you with.

*

“ _You!”_ The woman is the first thing you see when you wake up. Sunlight is shining through the windows into the room.

“How are you feeling?” She asks and does not seem to be bothered by the curses you throw at her. It takes a while till you realise that you are still dressed and in a beautiful bedroom.

“I’m fine.” You murmur, surprised that it is the truth.

“Good. He’s asking for you.” She smiles again and obviously tries not to laugh when you stumble to your feet instantly. “I’ll lead you to him.”

She types out a quick message on your phone and just starts walking. You hurry to follow her. Down one flight of stairs and another. And another one. She’s leading you down into a cellar and just when you start to think you shouldn’t trust her she turns a corner and Lestrade is standing there. Right in front of you. _Alive._

Looking pale and tired again.

“ _Greg_!” You are so happy to see him you push the woman out of the way and hug him.

He hisses again but just wraps his arms around you to pull you closer. You breathe in his scent and feel his strong arms wrap around you.

He’s fine.

He’s really fine.

You’re not even aware of the sound of high heels clicking against concrete as the woman disappears and leaves you two alone down here.

“Your watch...” He hisses again after a moment and pulls away from you. You notice that he’s wearing a T-Shirt and sweatpants. That his eyes are dark brown again and that his scar still looks big and scary but that the hair surrounding it was gone.

“Your watch…” He says again when you don’t move. “It’s silver…Please take it off.” He says and you narrow your eyes but do as he asks you to.

“Thanks. I’ll…I guess I have some explaining to do.” He says.

You just nod and let him lead you behind the huge steal doors. He’s talking but you can’t seem to grasp the words he’s saying.

_Wolf…_

He tells you about his scar, the full moon. He tells you that werewolves are real and that he is one of them. He tells you about the murders and the men he found. They are wolfs too. Vicious and dangerous. Out to hunt, letting the beast inside of them take over right before its time during the full moon.

You have seen what a wolf can do now.

He shows you the cellar, where he spends his full moon nights since his turn about a year ago. He tells you about his friends helping him. Making sure he’s okay and healthy. Not a threat to himself or society. He tells you that he’s a better copper since his turn…

…and then he looks at you and asks you if you are afraid of him.

And you just shake your head and step closer. Breathe in his scent again and let your fingers slide along his jaw. “No, I’m not afraid of you.” You whisper and he leans into the touch. Seeks it out. Closes his eyes.

You have seen what a wolf can do. What two wolves can do. But you’ve also seen what a wolf with a good heart can do… this full moon no one has died by the hands of the murderers.

His stubble makes your fingertips prickle and you step closer still. You wrap your arm around his shoulder and he smiles at you.

You hold his gaze and kiss him. And suddenly it all makes sense. Your lips brush against his and he moans quietly. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you flush against him. You can feel his muscles through his shirt and let your fingertips run along his arms. You can feel him getting goose bumps and groan into the kiss.

His tongue licks along your bottom lip and you open your mouth for him immediately. You are not scared of him but you were scared _for_ him. And now he’s okay. And he’s here and he’s kissing you.

Your tongue wraps around his. His taste fills your senses. You groan again and kiss him deeper, harder.

His hands push you against the cool concrete wall of his cellar. His face looks flushed when he pulls back. His lips are glistening. You lean forward to nip on them and he lets out a primal groan. You feel a shiver run down your spine.

He looks strong now. Not pale and sickly anymore. You suck on his lip and he presses himself against you fully. You tease him. Kiss along his jaw and neck. He growls again when you suck on his skin. His pulse is racing underneath your lips. You taste his sweat on your tongue.

Your lust is pooling low in your stomach. You can feel that he’s aroused. His hard cock pushing against his hip. His fingers are running through your hair, pulling you closer to his neck, urging you to suck harder before pulling you away.

He’s breathing hard. There is a flash of yellow in his eyes and you know the wolf is still close to the surface. “I…”

“I know…” You gasp and let your eyes slip close when his fingertips slide under your shirt. “I want you …”

He groans and almost rips off your shirt as his hands reach up to cup your breasts. His skin is hot and your body reacts to his touch instantly. Your nipples grow hard when he teases them, squeezes them. He kisses you again. Breathlessly. Hard. You just press back against him. Into his touch.

There is no question in your mind right now. Just lust and longing.

You roll your hips forward and he stares at you. “I want you…” You say again and he licks his lips.

His fingers slide down to your trousers and he rips them open quickly. Your fingers are fumbling with his sweatpants before you can push them down. His hard cock springs into your hands. You moan and squeeze it. His hips thrust forward.

“I’ve never…not since…” He groans and grabs your thighs. You somehow manage to get out of your trousers and kiss him again, pushing your tongue into his mouth. Making him growl again.

“Okay. It’s… _please_.” You gasp and guide his hand to your wetness. Your knees start to tremble when he lets his fingertips slide through your wet folds. His closes his eyes again, leans forward, teases your clit with the tip of his thumb.

“ _Greg!”_ His name echoes through the cellar. He groans and quickly grabs your thighs. You wrap them around his hips and he pushes you against the wall. Your arms wrap around his shoulders. Clinging to him.

“Please… _Yes!”_ You moan. You can feel his hard cock against your vagina. _So close!_ So fucking close. And not close enough!

He takes himself in hand and guides his cock to your opening. Your body takes him in, in one smooth, hot, wet motion.

He moans your name, presses his forehead against yours. You clench around him. He fills you completely. “Feels so good.” You moan and he starts to thrust. He looks at you and you can see the wolf inside of him take over.

His hips snap forward. He’s holding you up himself now as you are quickly losing yourself in pleasure. You can feel him deep inside. Every thrust. Hard and fast. So perfect.

You try to move with him but he just presses you against the wall. He growls your name and rolls his hips. You can’t think clearly anymore. Your moans are mixing with his growls.

slapping against yours. He’s sweating, kisses you again. He rolls his hips and suddenly he’s hitting the spot. You gasp and just let the amazing feelings take over.

His cock. His tongue. His voice. His skin.

He thrusts even harder and faster. Grabs your hips. He’ll leave a mark and you want him too. You blindly reach for his arm, pull it to your lips.

You close your mouth on the skin next to his scar. His rhythm falters but then you start to suck and he only fucks you harder. You leave your mark on him now and he knows it.

The thought makes you tremble. It’s a heady feeling. Sweat is running down your back, his chest brushes against your hard nipples. His thick cock stretches your inner walls…you lose yourself, you’re falling into pure bliss!

And then you’re coming… Loudly. Quickly. Lust is thundering through you, burning along your nerve endings, making your inner walls clench, hold him even tighter.

He pushes forward and finally lets go. He comes, pushing deep, spilling his come inside of you. Trembling in your arms.

You’re both soaring high and it takes a while till you can think and feel clearly again. Your heart is still racing when he gently kisses your temple. You close your eyes and just lean your head against his chest. You kiss the hint of chest hair visible at his collar.

He smiles and caresses your hair.

“Don’t think I won’t be yelling at you later for going after the suspects on your own…” You murmur and smile when you feel his chuckle rumbling deep in his chest…


End file.
